Part 4

My phone froze in my hand.

— “Who is this?” I asked.

There was no answer.

Only three short beeps, followed by absolute silence.

Marina stood before me. For the first time, I saw fear on her face.

— “Was that voice Nana’s rescuer?” I asked.

— “No,” she said. “Nana’s rescuer was an adult man back then. This voice belongs to someone young.”

Elene immediately wrote down the number.

— “I’ll hand this over to the police.”

Lasha took a step backward.

— “Nobody called. Someone is probably playing a prank on you.”

— “Why did you get scared then?” I asked.

— “I didn’t get scared.”

— “Then why are your hands trembling?”

The strap of his watch was indeed quivering. A few minutes later, the investigators led Lasha and Irakli away separately. On his way out, Lasha turned back several times.

— “Dad, don’t abandon me.”

I said nothing.

For years, I had labeled his every lie a “mistake.” His every rudeness, “stress.” His every heartlessness, “ambition.”

That day, for the first time, I called everything by its real name.

When I returned home that evening, Lasha’s bag was sitting in the living room. Socks were scattered across the floor, and a half-empty glass rested on the table. The room looked as though he had stepped out just a few minutes ago and would be returning shortly.

A childhood photo of him hung on the wall. In the photo, six-year-old Lasha was holding a small wooden boat. I remembered that boat. I had spent two weeks carving it before his birthday arrived.

Behind the frame, I found an old piece of paper.

“Dad, when I grow up, I’ll build you a big boat.”

I held the paper in my hand for a long time.

Then I set it down on the table.

That same night, Lasha’s lawyer called me.

— “Mr. Giorgi, I advise you to change your statement,” he said. “If you claim that you personally gave consent for the signature, your son might avoid prison.”

— “He knew he didn’t have my consent.”

— “He is your son.”

— “Which is precisely why I expected him not to demand a lie from me.”

The lawyer let out a heavy sigh.

— “You are destroying him.”

— “No. I am stepping back so he can face the consequences of his own actions.”

!!! Meine schwangere Tochter wurde am Busbahnhof halbtot gefunden, doch als ich ihren Ehemann zur Rede stellte, erlosch sein Lächeln

The next day, the investigator installed a recorder in the house. Lasha called me.

— “Dad, if you love me, tell them you forgot.”

— “Forgot what?”

— “Everything. The folder, the signature, that woman.”

— “Marina isn’t the problem.”

— “She is destroying our family.”

— “No, Lasha. You have been destroying it for years. Marina simply opened the door.”

Silence fell over the line for a few seconds.

Then the recording played back in the room, and his voice turned into something foreign.

“I won’t tell my father anything. He thinks I’m just managing the beach.”

Lasha fell silent.

And for the first time, I heard his words the way the investigators heard them. Not as a father who wanted to protect his child, but as a person who could no longer answer for someone else’s choices.

— “Did I say that?” he muttered faintly.

— “You said it.”

— “I didn’t mean it like that.”

— “But that is what you said.”

The following day, Lasha had to surrender. Irakli partially confessed to the crime. Davit gave his testimony to the investigation. The beach project was halted, the old agreement remained in effect, and the area became open to everyone once again.

At the trial, I only had to speak once.

The judge asked me:

— “Mr. Giorgi, do you confirm that this signature is not yours?”

— “I confirm it.”

— “And do you confirm that you did not give your son permission regarding this matter?”

— “I confirm it.”

Lasha sat on the other side of the courtroom. He did not look toward me.

On the day of the verdict, Marina stood beside me. She was wearing the same swimsuit. She no longer hid her scar.

— “Do you hate him?” I asked her.

— “Whom?”

— “Lasha.”

— “No. Hatred is a heavy burden. I have carried enough burdens already.”

— “Then what do you feel?”

— “Relief. That finally, my body belongs to me again. And my life—even more so.”

Several months passed.

I began volunteering at the town’s small library. Three times a week, I read books about the sea to children. Marina organized free swimming lessons for the elderly down at the beach. Only four people showed up for the first lesson.

!!! Anyám rám bízta harmincöt éves öcsémet, majd amikor nemet mondtam, olyan arcot vágott, mintha elárultam volna a családot

By the fourth week, there were twenty-two of us.

I used to be afraid of going into the water. I nearly drowned as a child, and ever since, I had always watched the sea strictly from the shore.

— “Take a step,” Marina told me.

— “What if I can’t do it?”

— “Then we’ll come back out. But try first.”

I stepped into the water.

The stones of the seabed slid beneath my feet. My hands were trembling, but Marina was right beside me.

— “Don’t hold me,” I told her.

— “I’m not holding you. I’m just right here.”

That day, for the first time, I swam further out than I had ever dared before.

I received a letter from Lasha two months later. It was short.

“Dad, I made a mistake. I want to talk to you. We can start everything over.”

I set the letter on the kitchen table.

Marina asked no questions at first.

— “Aren’t you going to answer him?” she asked eventually.

— “I will.”

— “What will you tell him?”

I thought about it for a long time.

— “That it’s impossible to start over when a person is still hiding behind the old truth.”

I sent my reply that very evening:

“I am not giving up on you, Lasha. But I will no longer live your life for you. If you ever speak to me again, it must be with honesty, not out of fear.”

He didn’t call after that.

Then one week, his young daughter, Sofo, came to visit me. She was holding a drawing. The drawing depicted the sea, a bright yellow sun, and two people standing far apart from each other.

— “This is me and Grandpa,” she told me. “Mom said you work near the sea now.”

— “Sometimes I do.”

— “When is Daddy coming back?”

Expectation shone in the child’s eyes. It was so pure that I couldn’t bring myself to lie to her.

— “When he’s ready,” I said.

— “Will you wait for him?”

I knelt down beside her.

— “I’ll be right here. But he has to walk the path himself.”

Sofo nodded and drew a small copper circle in the corner of her drawing.

— “What is that?” I asked.

!!! My stepmother threw me out the night Dad died, but one phone call made her hand freeze above the suitcase

— “Marina’s bracelet. She told me someone shouldn’t wear it unless they know why.”

That day was the first time I touched Marina’s bracelet. She unclasped it from her wrist and handed it to me.

On the back, hidden from the sun, I saw the inscription: “For Nana, until I live again.”

— “Why are you showing me this?” I asked.

— “Because now you know what living actually means.”

At the start of winter, the first snow fell. The beach was nearly empty. A white layer rested on the wooden benches, while the sea breathed dark and calm.

I sat down on a bench and pulled out Sofo’s drawing instead of a newspaper. Marina stood by the water’s edge. Beside her, young children were laughing.

Lasha’s final message arrived right then:

“Dad, I’m coming home. Please don’t lock the door on me.”

I put the phone in my pocket.

The door was open for him.

But the road—the road was his to walk.

Marina looked toward me.

— “What are you going to do?”

I looked down at the copper bracelet now resting on my wrist.

— “I’m waiting, but I’m no longer drowning in his place.”

The sea crashed softly against the shore.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid of the water anymore.

Missed the beginning?